Weirdness

Thursday, September 01, 2005

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Comrades,

We’re back! It was a good trip, one of the best we’ve had; with a very nice family reunion (Thanks Dolores!) and lots of sightseeing and shopping too. For those interested in the minutiae of my life, feel free to read on…
We had a nice flight to Denver, rented a car and drove up to Ft. Collins to visit my cousin Nanette and her family. We spent a wonderful evening telling ghost stories and recounting past family exploits and characters, (my Uncle Chuck is worthy of a small book). It was great (thanks gang!). We also went up there because we just like the town. Ft. Collins is a mid-sized place and one of those areas where I feel very comfortable. We’ve been viewing it as a possible retirement destination. It has a nice downtown with an excellent brew pub (CooperSmiths - http://www.coopersmithspub.com/). One problem – we stayed at the Days Inn while there. Don’t do that. It makes the Black Hole of Calcutta look like Versailles Palace. I think only massive inoculations of CooperSmiths’ pale ale preserved us from the disease, vermin and psychic corruption that seethed throughout the place
Our original plans were to take the Interstate over to the Western Slope but a huge rockslide had closed most of it down, (they don’t call these the Rocky Mountains for nuthin’). So we “detoured” through one of the prettiest places we know, Rocky Mountain National Park. The weather and drive were perfect and we made good time all the way down to my Mother’s old hometown, Fruita. On the way we saw a new sight – a brush fire right by the road being fought by planes dropping chemicals on it. After avalanches and flaming death, we could hardly wait for the next plague (rain of toads?)!
Fruita is right next to the bigger town of Grand Junction, and we spent a day or so shopping, strolling around my old haunts and wine tasting (the area just East of Junction is the Bordeaux region of Colorado…); and most importantly, hanging out with all my cousins. Those of you who’ve known me a long time know how important my times spent in Colorado with my cousins have been to me. Someday I’ll write about ‘em in detail. Suffice to say, it was great seeing everyone and talking about old times. It is one of my favorite things to do, and one event ending simply means I start planning and/or hoping for the next time.
Fruita has gone so far as to have just opened up a brewpub. Judging by our experience, I suspect it has already gone bankrupt by the time you read this. I confess I’ve never been in a place so reluctant to actually take an order and then get it to the table. Plate tectonics move faster than the staff there. I only got ONE BEER that night. ONE BEER! I didn’t even try to get a second, I had checked with the weather channel earlier and it clearly said that Hell hadn’t frozen over and I knew that that was the only indicator that the staff would be capable of handling a second round during my lifetime. Oh well.
The next day was the “official” Cutler family reunion (my Mother’s family), beautifully organized by my cousin Dolores at a little meeting hall outside of Fruita. A happy and relaxing day. About thirty of us were there, with the usual picture taking, family stories, and just simple connecting. Afterwards, a bunch of us continued the party at a restaurant in Junction. A perfect day.
The next day, we went South to the town of Montrose to continue visiting with some of my cousins who live there, (or were staying there during the Reunion). Another perfect day just hanging out, (Thanks Rob, Renice, Lynnae, and Nanette!).

The next morning began the serious stuff: shopping. The next nine days were spent touring more old haunts. Linda herself drove across the Million Dollar Highway (I’m so proud!). The first time she’d ever been on it, (I was driving), she was a little intimidated, (it’s one of those wonderful mountain roads where there are places with no shoulder and a sheer 1000 foot drop if you make any mistakes). Now, she drives it like a pro! We hit Ouray, Silverton, Durango, Dolores, Cortez, and then went down to Four Corners and into New Mexico while hitting Farmington and Gallup and all the trading posts in between. Found some very nice pottery on the way (we try to collect a particular style called Storytellers, next time you’re at Blau Manor check ‘em out on the fireplace mantle). This process is always a little weird for me, because one is frequently purchasing items of great beauty from people who pretty much live in poverty. I’m never quite comfortable with the juxtaposition.
We continued on to Santa Fe, a city I have mixed feelings about, I confess. It’s very pretty, the Old Town is impressive and if I were a millionaire filling up a Western style home with art this would be the place I’d go, I suppose. But it is pretty much out of our price range, and the town seemed kinda full of folks a little too rich, spoiled and other-worldly for my taste. Our first night out, we ate at a nice mid-scale Mexican restaurant in Old Town. The table behind Linda had a couple who announced to the waitress that they didn’t like tequila, and then proceeded to order a variety of Margaritas, each of which they sent back because they didn’t “taste right”. I only wish the poor waitress ended up serving them a glass of her urine with a lime stuck in it to see if perhaps that measured up to these gastronomes. Sheesh!
Meanwhile, behind me sat a family. Each time a new course was served, the mother would whip out a pendulum and let it swing over the plate, finally announcing that it was acceptable to eat, (I’m not making this up). Presumably, their eating habits, and the rest of their lives, are dependent upon air currents. God knows what would have happened if a breeze from the air conditioner had blown by. If only I’d had my Tarot deck with me I’d of shot the Death card onto their guacamole salad and watched the ensuing heart attacks. Wieners.
The other disturbing aspect of Santa Fe is the road layout around Old Town. Most guide books will tell you that it was put in place by the Spanish, but I can see the signs, and no for a fact that it is much older, representing a Cthulhlian nightmare maze based on non-Euclidean geometry. Roads change name with no warning, curve menacingly away from where one wants to be, etc. etc. The map we had was useless. It missed whole streets and blocks. Clearly, it had been designed by cartographers hired away from Stalin during the Cold War, creating inaccurate maps to mislead invading enemies. After several disastrous voyages, I ignored the map and relied on instinct to get around, (fortunately, years of practical and theurgic study have given me an excellent sense of direction as well as putting my mind in direct contact with the earth’s mystical currents and energies. I call this ability Blau Shui). We had no further problems.
We ended our trip in Albuquerque, one of the grittier cities I’ve been to. Nevertheless, the Old Town there is a little more low key and to my taste. It was a nice low key ending to a fun trip. Time to daydream about the next time…

p.s. Thanks to all my cousins for a wonderful time!

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